


fate loves the fearless

by bellaaanovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Begging, Bottom Dean, Coffee Shops, Dirty Talk, First Meetings, M/M, New York City, Oral Sex, Professor Castiel, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Tie Kink, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 15:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2197170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellaaanovak/pseuds/bellaaanovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hailstorm strikes at the worst possible time, trapping Dean Winchester in a dingy coffee shop in Brooklyn while he's on vacation from school. He has no idea he'll come across an interesting and charming NYU professor who happens to be stuck in the same place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fate loves the fearless

**Author's Note:**

> THE SMUT CAME POURING OUT I WASN'T GONNA WRITE SMUT BUT I DID I SHOULD BE IN CHURCH
> 
> EDIT: shifted the weather situation to the hail lasting only about fifteen minutes and the rest of the time they're stuck in a blizzard

_Some things are destined to be --_

_it just takes us a couple of_

_tries to get there._

\- J.R. Ward

“Everyone inside! Quick!”

 

The repetitive alarms blared through the city. People of all ages rushed to the nearest buildings as hail fell to the ground. Storms like this are fairly common during the winter, especially on the east coast, but Dean couldn’t be less thrilled he got caught in one while on vacation. During the three short weeks of Christmas vacation he gets from school, he thought he’d be spending much needed time in his favorite city in the country. Sure, he could have went home, but why bother? Sam is all the way in California and busy moving in to his new apartment with his girlfriend. Mom is dead. Dad probably would have gotten drunk and thrown a bottle of jack at his head to wake him up on Christmas morning.

 

He anticipated the cold; he desperately needed to escape the dry farmland of Lawrence and the annoying students at the University of Kansas.  With only one year of college left, he never thought he’d even make it this far. At twenty-six, it’s a bit of a late start, but hell if it wasn’t worth it. He was stuck in a small café with ice the size of his head falling from the sky when he was supposed to be on his way to meet a girl for lunch. Bela, her name was. Sweet, rich, unattached – everything he needed for a one night stand. Dialing her number as he plopped down onto an empty loveseat, he frowned when she picked up. Hoped he could just leave a message.

 

“Bela. It’s Dean. I got caught in a fucking hail storm. I’m stuck in some hole-in-the-wall coffee place in Brooklyn.” He heard her sigh and could almost see the exasperated smile on her face. In that suave English accent, she laughed bitterly.

“Damn. I’ve already ordered a bottle of expensive wine.” Dean scoffed.

“You’re filthy rich.”

“Just because I _have_ money doesn’t mean I like throwing it away. ‘Til next time, handsome.” As the line went dead, he raised an eyebrow.

 

Next time?

 

Dean took the next few minutes to analyze his surroundings. The café was clearly overcrowded – definitely a fire hazard. The space of the run-of-the-mill suite was taken up by three full sized families, a lot of grumbling working-class people, customers who were already in there, a few teenagers, and the staff. What did Dean qualify as? A tourist? A drifter? He ignored his own question and decided to get something to eat. Might as well – he doesn’t know how long he’ll be in there. He walked up to the counter where a kid who looked about Sam’s age with the name Max penciled in on his name tag stood.

 

“Can I get a coffee, black, and one of those chocolate chip muffins?”

“Yeah, comin’ right up.”

 

The barista had his muffin and coffee ready in less than five minutes. Impressive for a kid who looks like he hasn’t slept in two days. When Dean turned, he realized some guy was sitting in his seat with a laptop on his lap and a bag at his side like he’d been there all the time.

 

“Hey, I was sitting there.” Dean offered. The man looked up and nearly pierced Dean’s soul with tired, deep blue eyes. Scruffy, dark facial hair and heavy eyelids adorned his tan skin. If he didn’t look so exhausted, Dean probably would have turned on the charm.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you owned this chair.” He didn’t get up, but actually continued typing on his laptop.

Dean scowled and grumbled, “Whatever,” and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, setting his stuff down. “What are you typing?” The man stopped for a second, then started again.

“A lecture. I teach a history class at NYU. The storm is giving me much needed time to finish it.”

“You look a little young to be a professor.”

“I’m twenty-nine, Sir.”

“I’m Dean. Dean Winchester… Sir.” Dean held his hand out with a raised eyebrow and the man reluctantly took it.

“Castiel Collins.”

 

He had a pretty strong grip. It was impossible to tell whether he worked out; he was wearing a heavy coat over a blazer and a black button-down shirt. A blue tie contrasted against the shirt, his black slacks matching it perfectly. This guy looked like a pretty interesting person, but oddly introverted. If they were gonna be stuck in here together, Dean was suddenly determined to break the man’s shell.

 

Dean took a sip of his coffee and then a few more – the hot liquid felt like heaven after battling the freezing weather. He was careful not to spill on his worn down blue jeans. He’s had them for a couple years now… maybe he should start buying new clothes. Under his flannel, he had a long-sleeved thermal on, and over that, a military jacket and a simple scarf. To anyone who doesn’t know him – so, basically, the whole state of New York – he probably looked homeless. Shrugging off his personal appearance, he dug into his muffin, almost moaning when he took the first bite. God, that was the best muffin he ever had.

 

“You’re the first.” Dean snapped out of it to realize Castiel had spoken to him.

“Uh, sorry?”

“You’re the first person who’s heard my name and didn’t ask to just call me ‘Cas’ since I’ve moved here.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not from around here, and I like it. I mean, my name is _Dean_. My brother is Sam, my dad John, my mom… was Mary. Family of simpletons. Your name is different.” Dean pursed his lips, trying not to think about his dad. He’d rather think of his mother. He does most of the time anyways.

“Good different, or bad different? It’s Biblical, you know. The name of an angel.”

“Good, and I do now.”

 

Castiel smiled at Dean warmly and Dean couldn’t help but smile back. The professor continued typing away while Dean ate. The guy even offered the chair to him once, but Dean refused because he needed it more than he did. Once Dean finished his small meal, he threw out his trash and sat back on the floor. He watched Castiel type, catching him glance down a few times. Castiel closed the laptop after a half hour and released a sigh as he slid his laptop back in his bag.

 

“All done?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. You said you’re not from Brooklyn.”

“I’m not from _New York_. I live in Lawrence. I’m almost a senior at the University of Kansas.” Castiel’s eyes widened a little. Damn, if he were in any other situation, he would have flirted his way past the other’s walls and had him melt in the palm of his calloused hand, but for reasons unknown, he just couldn’t. Although, the whole professor-student thing is something Dean’s always wanted. “What, why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

“I used to teach there,” Castiel blurted out. “For the past four years. I only just started at NYU in August.” Dean sat up straight against the table and shifted so one knee was in the air and the other straight out.

“No kidding. I guess I never had any of your classes.”

“How would you know?” He pondered.

“Face like yours? I’d remember it.” Dean nervously spit out. How is he flustered talking to this man? There’s just an effect he has on him that makes him want to do something other than hit and run.

 

Castiel stopped pressing on the conversation and instead shifted his position in the chair so he’s more comfortable. His face was turned away from Dean and he couldn’t help but take it personally. He didn’t think he crossed a line. It’s not like he’s currently his student or ever was. Even though Dean’s only three years younger than him, it’s different once you’re not a minor anymore. Twenty-six and twenty-nine is much different than fifteen and eighteen. Was Castiel uncomfortable with him being a student or was it just a boundary he shouldn’t have gone into?

 

“It’s fucking hot in here.” Castiel muttered.

“Yeah, but it’s cold out there. The heat is probably on full blast in here. Why don’t you relax? I’m sorry for what I said.” Dean offered. It was worth a shot. The other turned and faced him again, but this time with a more confused expression than angry.

“Sorry? Why would you be sorry?”

“Well, I used a dumb pick-up and then you turned away, silent? That kinda gives off the ‘leave-me-alone’ vibe.”

“I didn’t mean for it to seem like that, I just—“

“Are you straight? Oh god, you’re straight, hey man, I’m sorry for _that_. _That_ is embarrassing, yeesh.” Dean rushed to get up and brushed his jeans. He needed to escape the vicinity. Damn it if he gets crushed by a giant cube of ice. 

“Dean!” A few people looked over at them as he said his name but quickly retreated back to their own conversations. “Please stay, I didn’t – I’m n-not straight. I’m just new at this. I dated someone for a really long time and when I proposed, she freaked and broke it off.”

 

Castiel lowered his tone and looked down at his lap. There was sweat on his forehead and Dean gently sat down on the table in front of the chair, slowly pushing off the other’s heavy coat. His blazer was next, and they didn’t stop looking at each other the whole time. He already seemed more comfortable, and he let out a small smile. In this position, Dean could easily pull Castiel on his lap and kiss his neck and scratch down his back – he reverted back to reality when he remembered they’re in public. He could, though, in any other situation, and he had a weird feeling Castiel would let him. 

 

“Sorry about your girlfriend. I can’t say I understand, ‘cause I’m not really the relationship type, but I am sorry.” Dean said softly. Castiel shook his head. He could tell the wound of the break-up was still fresh. “When… is that why you moved to New York?” The other man glanced up and pursed his lips, nodding his head.

“What about you? Are you on vacation or something?”

“Yeah. I didn’t feel like going home for Christmas this year. Something always goes wrong.” Dean frowned as Castiel stifled a laugh. “What, why are you laughing?”

“I’m not laughing at you. I just – Christmas was never easy in my family either. My parents are really religious and raised my siblings and I into it, but most of the time the façade of matching sweaters and Christmas carols about Jesus covered the smell of weed in my dad’s room or the condoms in my teen sister’s trash can. I’m not going home for Christmas either.” An affectionate, understanding smile formed on Castiel’s face and hell, Dean wanted to kiss those lips so bad. To compensate, he grabbed his hand and squeezed. A silent _I’m here for you, even if we don’t know each other_ will have to do.

 

Somebody's voice broke their silence as they called out semi-joyfully. "My cousin works for the fire department. The hail is gone, but it's still blizzarding. We gotta stay in here longer." People groaned.

An hour passed before they spoke again. Castiel allowed Dean to play games on his laptop while he read a book. It was comforting for Dean to have this stranger come into a café when he could have gone into the building next door. What would Dean have done this whole time? He looked around the room again – the only girls who looked remotely his type were way too young for him, and there weren’t any guys around. The kid at the counter, maybe. He didn’t believe in fate at all, but it’s a hell of a nice coincidence he and Castiel ended up in the same place.

 

He could get somewhere with him. Those plush, pink lips are fucking calling him, and it’s driving him crazy. He _has_ to have him, at least just a kiss, at least just for today, at least for a minute. With the coat and blazer off, Dean can see the outline of muscle under the dark shirt, and he didn’t even notice before how Castiel had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons. God, this guy was practically beggin’ for it. Dean cleared his throat and shut the laptop carefully.

 

“Your tie matches your eyes. Did you do that on purpose?” Dean inquired with a smirk.

“Sort of. A couple weeks ago I bought it when a clerk at Men’s Warehouse told me it brings out my eyes.” Dean shifted as Castiel smirked back. “A fifty year old female clerk with a diamond clunker on her finger told me that. Jealous?” _Was_ Dean jealous? He couldn’t be jealous; he only just met the guy today. Would Castiel be jealous if he knew Dean was supposed to be sleeping with a gorgeous British girl right about now? Probably not.

“You wish.”

 

Another forty-five minutes went by unbearably slowly. Around half past four, two FDNY guys entered the café and told everyone the storm had cleared up, and thanked everyone for cooperating and being patient while they waited the storm out. A few people applauded, the business people hurried out of the café, and some stuck around for a few minutes before leaving as well. Castiel and Dean were among the ten-odd people still in the coffee shop. Neither of them had moved and didn’t know how to address it. Castiel started to put his blazer and coat back on and Dean helped him with his bag. Where was he to go from here? Ask for his number?

 

“Castiel.” Dean stated. He held his hand out and when the other took it, he pulled him in for what appeared to be a simple hug, but was more than that. While squeezing his hand, Dean breathed softly against his ear and spoke in a whisper. “ _Castiel_. Right now I want nothing more than to kiss those taunting lips and hold you and hear you say my name against my neck. I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. Caught you glancing at me earlier, you want it too, right?” Castiel’s breath hitched and he slowly pulled away from the “hug” and stared at him yearningly. He parted his lips and nodded, squeezing Dean’s hand back.

 

They left the café together and God, Dean had never walked faster in his life. His hotel was only a few blocks away. By the time they got back, they were both cold again. Luckily the hotel had heat, and when they entered the room, Dean hooked a do-not-disturb sign on the doorknob. He locked it and just stared at Castiel. They both laughed.

 

“Why didn’t we take a cab?” Castiel asked through a smile as he shucked off his over clothes. Dean tossed his jacket on the couch and unbuttoned his flannel, watching as the other unbuttoned his shirt.

“So many fucking _layers_!” Dean exclaimed. When he finally was down to only his jeans and Castiel to his slacks and tie, he took in the fucking view. Castiel’s body was incredible – he was fit, tan, and had a tattoo on his shoulder. It was just a tribal sort of pattern, but Dean loved it. Stopping himself from practically drooling, he stepped towards Castiel, grabbed his hips and kissed him _hard_.

 

Castiel parted his lips for him easily and soon it was all hair-tugging, hot kissing, and desperate grabbing. Dean fiddled with the button on the slacks and through labored breaths, ordered him gently to get the damn things off. They rushed to the bed, leaving a trail of clothing behind them. Before they got on the bed, Dean stared into Castiel’s knowing eyes and grinned.

 

“This better get me excellent marks on my exam, Professor.” Dean said it as a joke, but he felt Castiel’s cock twitch against his thigh. Castiel seemed as surprised as Dean did, and he shrugged, but blushed profusely. “Like that, huh? Like when I call you that?”

“God, yes. I didn’t know I had a – the teacher-student aim never appealed to me.” Castiel responded innocently.

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. If you were my professor, I’d be thinking about you all throughout your lecture. I wouldn’t even be listening, I’d be too busy thinking about you kissing me… bending me over your desk so I can feel your hard-on through your slacks, sitting on your lap while you grade papers.” While Dean spoke, he backed them up towards the bed and turned them so Castiel sat on the edge.

“Dean, _please_.” Castiel moaned. That’s what he wanted.

“Begging you to give me good grades… p-punishing me for not paying attention when I was really daydreaming about your _beautiful_ fucking cock in my mouth.” Dean got on his knees. He stroked Castiel slowly and kissed his thighs, sucking little purple marks into them.

 

Castiel’s cock was a lot bigger past his lips. He’s taken his fair share of cock, but Castiel – god, so beautiful. Thick but not like porn, long but not too long so when Dean deep throats him, it doesn’t make him gag. The noises the other made were like music to his ears. He pulled off before he could come, and he climbed on the bed behind him, lying down and spreading his legs. Dean stroked his own cock slowly – every touch made his breath hitch. And the _looks_ Castiel gave him before climbing over him almost made him _cry_.

 

“F-fuck me. Castiel, I w-want you. Please.” Castiel kissed him deeply, more passionately than he’d ever been kissed before.

“That’s Professor Collins to you, remember?” Castiel’s voice was low and uncannily sexy. Dean nodded breathlessly and spread his legs ever wider.

“Fuck me, _Professor_. Please, I’ve been a good boy, right? I get all the gold stars on the wall; do I get a reward, S _ir_?” Dean licked his lips and watched as Castiel squeezed his hand.

“Lube.” Dean reached under his pillow and provided the bottle with a wink. Castiel lathered himself up good and wet and eased into Dean with one push. They both let out a noise neither of them would ever admit to making and Castiel moved slowly inside of him. Dean continued stroking himself as he watched Castiel move. “Wait. Got an idea.” The other undid his tie completely and batted Dean’s hands away from his cock. “Wanna make you come just from fucking you, baby. Gonna tie your hands up to the headboard, okay?”

 

Dean moaned loudly and held his hands up by the headboard. Castiel tied his hands and dragged his own sweetly down his sides and stomach, kissing his neck, chest, and nipples. Dean moaned again as Castiel swiped his tongue quickly over the sensitive skin. They breathed deeply in sync as Castiel started moving again, this time much quicker and much harder. They were mostly quiet besides the noises they made and the inaudible babble. Dean’s cock leaked precome and it was stiff as a fucking rock, throbbing like Castiel’s inside of him.

 

“Fuck, Dean, you’re so gorgeous. So hot, I love fucking you. Don’t come before me, alright baby boy?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

“Ah, shit, so f-fucking good for me. Good boy.”

 

Castiel’s grip on Dean’s thigh and shoulder tightened as he rocked into him hard and fast. Dean let out what could only be classified as a high pitched whine when he felt the other hit the sensitive spot inside him. Castiel grinned when he heard the noise, victorious. His hands curled under Dean, squeezing his ass and holding him upwards, which was a _much_ more comfortable and more pleasurable angle to finish each other out. They both practically screamed as Castiel came first, and Dean shortly after.

 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, taking it all in. Castiel untied Dean and they cleaned up in the bathroom, getting dressed in only their boxers and shirts, loose and unbuttoned anyways. Dean sifted through the cupboards until he found the box of hot chocolate mix and bag of mini-marshmallows he’d purchased a few days earlier. He leaned against the counter while the microwavable drink heated up, watching Castiel tentatively.

 

Once the drinks were finished, they sat down at the small round table and watched each other, not sure what to say. Castiel broke the silence.

 

“How much longer will you be in town?”

“Couple weeks,” Dean replied sadly. He didn’t want to continue at KU. He hated Kansas. He loved New York. “Wish I could stay longer.”

“Why don’t you?” Castiel asked. “I can see it in your eyes, Dean. I saw it earlier in the café. You’re not as happy as you could be.”

“Not as happy as I could be,” Dean echoed. “I should take you out.”

“What? It’s freezing out there!”

“Not now, idiot. Eventually.  On a date, a real date. Hold your hand. Bring you coffee on your breaks. I could even transfer to NYU. You know, I could be happier.”

 

Castiel’s eyes widened at the NYU comment, and he sipped his cocoa anxiously. He suspiciously looked at Dean, as if he wouldn’t really do it.

 

“I thought you weren’t the relationship type, Dean.” Castiel reminded him skeptically.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

 

As they sat there, stinking of sex and drinking hot cocoa in their boxers, they kept an eye on each other. They weren’t even sure why. Dean was just drawn to him, and he was sure Castiel felt the same. God, he hated Kansas. He loved New York. He’s visited before, but never had the courage to pack up and say goodbye to the Sunflower State and hello to the Empire State. When Castiel stood up, leaned down and kissed Dean softly, he smiled. As he heard the laptop opening and Castiel blurting out, “You beat my score at Pinball _six times_?!” Dean realizes he finally has a reason to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> title is a quote from james russell lowell  
> hope u enjoyed this  
> leave kudos and comments please it is really appreciated !!! xx
> 
> always happy to take requests, just go to redeemedmeg.tumblr.com/details
> 
> thanks for reading!! ♡ ♡


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